Think Forward.

Mama Rita : L'héritage de la charité et de l’amour 1999

Je garde précieusement dans ma mémoire les souvenirs d'enfance liés au 5ᵉ étage de l'hôpital Mohamed V. Cet étage n'était pas comme les autres. Il portait en lui une signification profonde, un symbole de charité et de solidarité. C'était là que Mama Rita accueillait les enfants abandonnés, leur offrant bien plus qu'un toit : une famille, une chance de grandir entourés d'amour et de dignité. À chaque visite à l'hôpital, entre deux éclats de rire d'enfant et des moments d'amusement insouciant, je ressentais cette énergie particulière qui émanait de cet étage. Mama Rita incarnait cette force discrète mais immense, celle de l’amour inconditionnel, du don de soi, de la réparation des âmes blessées. Plus tard, dans la salle de sport Samurai, où je pratiquais le karaté shotokan, je croisais souvent ces enfants de Mama Rita. Ils venaient s'entraîner avec une discipline et une volonté admirables, portant en eux une résilience qui semblait presque naturelle. Leur transport, marqué par la présence bienveillante de Mama Rita, faisait partie du décor familier de mon quotidien. C'était une preuve vivante que l'amour et la bienveillance pouvaient véritablement transformer des vies. En arrivant au lycée, une école voisine accueillait ces enfants pour leur socialisation primaire. Mama Rita avait compris l'importance de l’éducation, non seulement comme un droit fondamental, mais aussi comme un outil d’intégration et d’émancipation. Grâce à elle, ces enfants trouvaient une place dans la société, une identité, une voix. Et puis, sans vraiment y penser, j'ai nommé ma fille Rita. Aujourd'hui, je réalise que ce n'était pas un simple hasard. Ce prénom porte en lui une symbolique forte, un héritage d’amour, de don de soi et de charité. En la regardant grandir, je me surprends à espérer qu’elle incarne ces mêmes valeurs : la capacité à aimer sans condition, à tendre la main à l'autre, à voir la lumière même dans l'obscurité. Mama Rita n'est pas seulement un nom ou un souvenir d’enfance. Elle est devenue une source d'inspiration intemporelle, un modèle de force et de générosité. Son empreinte continue de vivre à travers les cœurs qu'elle a touchés y compris le mien et à travers cette nouvelle génération qui, je l’espère, portera en elle la même lumière.
Fatima Zahra Sahli

Fatima Zahra Sahli

Sahli Fatima Zahra, PhD, is a psychologist and professor at Ibn Tofail University. She specializes in the intersections of community dynamics and sports psychology. Her work explores the nuances of human behavior with cultural sensitivity.


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At 80 years old, the UN wavers between its founding ideal and tragic impotence… 50

As every year, at the end of September, the opening of the General Assembly seeks solemnity, and is often described as historic. But is the world really gathered here to decide its future? Is it truly within these walls that decisions that matter are made? As always, it falls to the Secretary-General to make the assessment and take stock. Before the General Assembly in New York, the Secretary-General of the United Nations once again gravely recalled the primary purpose of the Organization, born 80 years ago as a bulwark against chaos, war, and barbarism. The UN, he stressed, has never been an abstract ideal, but a pragmatic tool to safeguard humanity’s survival through three pillars: cooperation, law, and peace. Yet the tone, the words, and the expressions of the valiant Secretary-General left no doubt: he is powerless, and his organization is withering. One could sense he himself was shaken by the bleak diagnosis he delivered about our times. This founding reminder was followed by an implacable assessment: the principles of the UN Charter are increasingly flouted. Wars, invasions, famines, and climate crises are multiplying. From Sudan to Ukraine, from Gaza to the Sahel, deep in Africa, conflicts take root and drag on, with hardly a glimmer of hope for a just resolution. Whole generations will bear the mark. The scars will not fade any time soon. Truth and human dignity are instrumentalized, while social and environmental fractures deepen. With a tone mixing lucidity and anxiety, the Secretary-General posed the question underlying his entire speech: *“What world will we choose?”* He then shifted into a more diplomatically acceptable address, tinged with a hint of optimism. True to his role, he outlined five crucial choices for the future. Will he be heard? He knows perfectly well the answer is no. **1. Peace rooted in international law.** He called for condemning violations of the Charter and the impunity of aggressors. He pleaded for ceasefires, an end to foreign interference, and a reform of the Security Council. Yet that very evening, bombs would still fall, and innocent bodies would still litter the ground. **2. Human rights as the foundation of peace.** Equality, dignity, and social justice were placed at the heart of the speech. But are we truly equal before the law? Who still believes it? **3. Climate justice.** Weary, the old man reminded the Assembly of the urgent need to accelerate the energy transition, denouncing fossil fuel subsidies and pointing to the colossal financial needs of the Global South: $1.3 trillion per year by 2035. But what is that word “justice” worth in a world where the president of the leading scientific, economic, and military power dismisses renewable energy as a “scam”? Who is to be believed? **4. Technology in the service of humanity.** Artificial intelligence was cited as a major challenge: a promise of innovation, but also a risk of autonomous weapons, mass surveillance, and new digital divides. He called for a universal framework of governance. But who will respect it, other than those already respecting the rules? **5. Strengthening the UN for the 21st century.** The Secretary-General denounced the glaring imbalance between military spending and investments for peace, calling for a renewed and effective multilateralism. Yet in this hall designed to gather humanity around universal values, who is still listening? Is multilateralism not dying a quiet death, abandoned by the great powers themselves? The speech was meant to be solemn and mobilizing. Words were carefully chosen: impunity, chaos, famine, horrors. Rhetorical questions and binary oppositions (“brute force or laws?”, “the law of the strongest or universal rights?”) punctuated his address. Through the collective *“we”*, António Guterres recalled the preamble of the Charter: *“We, the peoples of the United Nations.”* But, like a weary sage, he mostly sketched a political and moral roadmap. As a lucid man, he knows his speech will change nothing. He has done his duty. He absolves himself. This speech, to which only tears were missing, was not just an assessment, but a call to action. It sought to reaffirm the central role of the UN and to underline that the challenges of our time—wars, climate, artificial intelligence, human rights—transcend borders. Between the lines, the central message was clear: revitalizing multilateralism is not an ideological option, but a vital necessity. But vital for whom? Facing a fragmented world, the UN wishes to become once again the voice of unity and hope. But to whom is this message addressed, if not to the powerful who stopped listening long ago? The rest of the world will applaud. Future generations will judge. *“Le machin” (“that thing”), as De Gaulle once called it, has never seemed so powerless.* Now comes the turn of the fine speeches of those present. Speeches carefully written by scribes and *performed* by a few actors and many extras. In any case, see you next year—no doubt with more injustice, more suffering, more lawlessness, more tragedies, and more meaningless deaths.